


the world could have ended (and i would have still missed you)

by starkindstrs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, M/M, serious AOS season 5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17896115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkindstrs/pseuds/starkindstrs
Summary: "... no matter what, I promise you. If you need us—if you need me, I’ll be there."Steve packed up the letter and the phone, and sent it.At the beginning of the end of the world, the phone rang for the first time.





	the world could have ended (and i would have still missed you)

When the world ended, it went like this.

It was 2 PM, and Steve had just gone back to the apartment he shared with Nat and Sam in Wakanda. He’d been called to overview the aftermath of a situation in Chicago that had been taken care of before his quinjet even arrived, and his team discreetly helped what was left of the new SHIELD team clean up the city after it had survived a potentially world-ending destruction.

A couple of days ago, Nat had gotten a call from Fury, calling in a favor to help an old friend. It had been a long negotiation, especially concerning their status as fugitives, but Nat had finally relented. SHIELD had gone too deep in the dark with so few agents left while the situation was going south quick, and they needed all the help they could get. Steve had offered to go, as did Sam, and the three of them flew in for a quick trip, and then left before the US government officials had arrived.

So Steve arrived back in the country back in the modest apartment T’Challa provided him, stripped off his old stealth suit and went for a long, cold shower. Even with the water running, he could still catch glimpses of Nat and Sam’s conversation in the living room, talking about the near world-ending event.

 _We can’t go on like this_ , Steve listened. There was a small sigh from Nat. _We’re so divided, so far apart. What are we going to do when a bigger threat comes?_

There were some cluttering sounds as Steve lathered up the shampoo in his hair. _Did you listen to Agent Johnson’s debriefing? They went forward in time. The earth was torn apart, from the event they managed to stop yesterday. Barely. The world could have ended yesterday. They saw it happen—they lived in it. And we did nothing to stop it._

Steve swallowed hard as water poured over his face. He would have called Coulson team’s story crazy, except he’d crashed a plane and woken up 70 years in the future himself. It wasn’t hard to believe in crazy anymore.

And that was the question that kept running in his head as they flew back to Wakanda in the quinjet. Where was he, in that other timeline where Agent Johnson couldn’t stop Graviton from destroying the Earth? Where was he, and Nat, and Sam? Where were the Avengers?

 _We did nothing to stop it_ , Nat had just said. How could they, when they barely made it in time all the way from here?

_Where were the Avengers?_

A better question was: _what was left of the Avengers_? Everyone on Steve’s side, back from that goddamn fight the media had dubbed Civil War, had all scattered all over the world (he and Sam was here, Bucky was healing elsewhere in the country, Lang surrendered himself into a house arrest, Clint went AWOL…), and everyone on the other side only had… Rhodey, who was still off duty, still healing from his injuries. Vision was… Vision, who, last Steve heard, frequently met up with Wanda across the world. Nat was here, with Steve instead, as was T’Challa who was the one that opened his home for Steve. That Spider-Man guy, who didn’t seem like a full-time Avenger yet. And… Tony.

Tony, who seemed to be doing well. Last heard, he finally got engaged with Pepper. Steve had tried to be happy, he really had, but he could only stare at the silent phone on his bedside, wondering if his package was sent at all, wondering if it even really mattered. Steve shook his head and wrapped himself in the towel, getting his mind back on track.

No wonder the Earth had been destroyed, in that other timeline Johnson spoke about. Their small team only made it in this timeline because they had been forewarned. And they’d ended the whole fucking world destruction by themselves while Steve was sipping on a cold tea staring at the kitchen wall.

Some superhero he was.

_The world could have ended yesterday._

How long would it take until someone else attempted it? Where would Steve be then?

Steve picked up the phone from his nightstand. Just like he always did at least two times a day, his thumb hovered on the keypad. Before he knew it, he was opening a new message draft, already typing. _Tony…_

He shook his head and put the phone back down and slipped a shirt over his head. Once he was done dressing up, he paused before his bedroom door, picked the phone up and slipped it into his jeans’ pocket.

He never really could go long without it attached to his person. Sometimes he wondered if Tony would call that pathetic if he’d known.

Sam was in the kitchen, heating up some food their neighbor offered—they hadn’t eaten since before they finished damage control and then they’d been already on the run back to Wakanda. Nat was on the couch, flipping channels with his legs curled under her. Steve opened the fridge and took a bottle of water, and sat next to Nat on the couch.

When Nat paused on a channel too long and the small TV showed a clip that showed Pepper Potts in a long navy dress, Steve asked not to change it. His breath caught when he listened.

 **Stark Wedding Canceled** , the headline underneath her smiling face said in bold. They talked about Pepper finally confirming the rumors, that the engagement had been off for a few months now.

Steve’s fingers twitched near his pocket. When did this happen, and was Tony okay?

He flashed back to a night back at the tower, a lifetime ago. When they both couldn’t sleep at night, they’d usually found the other wandering around in the quiet building. Sometimes they’d sit at the kitchen counter, nursing Chamomile tea. Sometimes on the couch, watching an old movie in mute. Sometimes up in the roof, just talking. It was how they both found a common ground. It was how they apologized for the first day on the helicarrier. It was how they both found an understanding. It was how Steve learned how to undo the thick layers that made _Tony Stark_ and found _Tony_ underneath it all.

He remembered Tony, stripped off of all of his armors, wryly telling him that he did not deserve Pepper Potts in all of his lives. He remembered Tony, just weeks before Lagos and Leipzig and Siberia happened, tapping on a still full glass of whiskey in his hands, softly telling him _I always wondered when she was going to leave me, yet I’m still surprised when she finally does_. He remembered himself, a feeling tight in his chest, words he couldn’t say out loud for months and months now: _and I wondered if I could be enough, but I have something else you need to know yet I can’t bear myself to tell you just yet_.

Steve didn’t know when the feeling had started, or how. He’d woken up one day and discovered it had grown all over himself like a grapevine, twined in-between his ribs. One day he’d decided to stay up at night because he’d known Tony would be awake, even if his own nightmares had spared him for that night. One day he’d realized that all he wanted was to reach across and gently laid his palm atop Tony’s hand when it began to shake—in fear, in anger, in grief, and possible never let go.

And yet he couldn’t have, because he’d known he’d never deserved that chance. Not when he’d still been chasing ghost trails trying to find his lost best friend. Not when said best friend had been suspected to have murdered Tony’s parents. Not when he couldn’t bring himself to tell Tony yet.

 _Later, you’ll have time for later_ , Steve had always told himself no matter how many times Sam had reprimanded him for it. _You don’t know for sure if Bucky was the one who did it. You find him, you confirm it, and then you tell Tony, and everything will be alright._

Then Zemo happened and Steve had never gotten the chance and he lost everything. Steve thought back on his own naïve, hopeful self and wanted to throw up.

_And then I held my shield over my head as I straddled his helpless body on the ground._

The TV showed a paparazzi shot of Tony, eyes shielded behind his dark sunglasses, a tiny, pressed smile quirking a side of his lips as he got into his car. A clip from several weeks ago, when he’d attended a gala in the Avengers’ name. Steve looked down on his fingers, the ones that had held on his shield as if he was about to bring it down Tony’s neck, and took a sip from his bottle.

“He looks okay,” Nat commented, already changing the channel. “All things considered.”

“That’s good.” Steve’s hand patted down the phone on his pocket without command. “Think he could’ve helped end the end of the world?”

“Oh, you listened in. Why am I surprised.” Nat rolled her eyes and unfolded her legs. “What do you think?”

“I think he’d do alright.” There was nothing Tony Stark couldn’t do if he put his mind to it. “Wonder why Coulson or Fury didn’t call in the Avengers for help instead.”

“Because the world’s fucked up, Stark’s tied to the accords, and Coulson’s SHIELD is on the run, just like us,” Sam popped in, bringing a plate of food for each of them. “Eat up.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“We can’t go on like this,” Steve sighed as he went through his late lunch, breakfast, whatever. “There’s always a bigger threat coming. That’s what Tony always used to say.”

_A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space — we’re standing 300 feet below it. We’re the Avengers. That’s the endgame._

“Tony’s been working on fixing the accords.” Steve’s head snapped up at Nat’s words. “What? I have ears. T’Challa’s helping him. It’s been tough, with SHIELD going rogue as well so the progress has been back and forth for months. But they’re hopeful. We can go back.”   _Go home,_ Steve's mind supplied.

 _But I don’t know if Tony can ever forgive me_ , Steve thought, once again touching the silent phone in his pocket. _I don’t know if everything will ever be the same._

“I hope, when the threat comes—and I know it will come again—I hope it’s all been fixed. We can’t afford to save the world by being apart.”

And Steve’s mind flashed back.

_“How were you guys planning on beating that?’_

_“Together.”_

_“We’ll lose.”_

_“Then we’ll do that together, too.”_

Steve got up to put his half-full plate on the kitchen counter when Nat let out a sharp gasp. “ _Steve_.” She pointed at the TV. 

Her eyes, as were Sam’s, we’re locked on the TV screen. Steve paled, and the plate in his hand nearly broke. “Is it live?”

“The video report is just minutes ago. It’s probably still happening right now,” Sam murmured. “Oh, shit. And we _just_ got back.”

Steve couldn’t even shut Sam up if he wanted. There, on the screen, was New York going into chaos as the camera shakily pointed at a giant, spinning, circle-shaped object hovering over the tall buildings. People were running all over the street, screaming to get as far away as possible from the unidentified object. Police were already on site, but the object looked too alien for them to take care of themselves.

In the distance, the shaky camera caught a flash of red and blue flinging from building to building. Soon after, red and gold followed—and Steve breath stopped. The video cut off to the news reporter in the studio, thinly-veiled horror on her face as she described the early reports of what was going on.

_“We have Adrienne Fowler and David Wheeler reporting live from New York. Adrienne, can you hear me?”_

Soon the screen switched into a clearer picture of the city.

“ _—had Iron Man on a chase but he hasn’t been seen since. Right now we can see the unidentified object seemingly pulling away from the scene. So far, nobody can provide any more information regarding—”_

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve’s breath rasped. Nat was already gathering her equipment back up, Sam on the phone. Phone, phone, _phone_. Steve reached into his pocket and take out his flip phone.

_So no matter what, I promise you. If you need us—if you need me, I’ll be there._

His eyes were still locked on the screen, analyzing, calculating. They were beginning to show more clips of amateur videos taken on the streets. His eyes flicked as the clips changed. There were glimpses of Iron Man fighting a creature in the distance. Where did he go, what were those creatures, what in the everloving _fuck_ was going on?

_Please don’t go chasing the aliens. Please don’t go after the goddamn ship. Please stay, I'll be there, we can figure it out together. Please don’t fight whatever this is on your own._

There was a ringing.

Steve looked down and the phone, after two years of complete silence, _lit up_.

His fingers shook when he flipped it open. _Tony_ , it simply said. Tony was calling. _Tony was calling_. From Earth. He was safe. He did not go after the alien ship. _He was safe_.

He pressed the green button and brought the phone to his ear, breathless. “Tony?”

Silence.

 _Tony. Say something. Please. Forgive me. I’ll fight alongside you. Together, like I always promised._ “Tony, you’re alright.”

A harsh breath, and then, “… Steve,” the voice began and no, no, no, it’s the _wrong_ voice, it’s not Tony. No. No. _No_.

And so Steve growled into the phone, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him, still listening to the reports. “Who’s this and where’s Tony?”

“Steve, it’s… it’s Banner. It’s Bruce. There’s a situation—”

The screen showed the Iron Man armor shooting up into the sky, right behind the ship. No. _God, please. No_. His fingers trembled. A second later, the shaken news reporter said, “ _Iron Man was confirmed to have gone after the unidentified object… The object has now left the Earth’s atmosphere and_ —”

“—Steve, we need your help.” _No, no, no…_ Fear gripped into every inch of his lungs, and Steve nearly fell on his knees. “Tony’s gone after it. Pepper and Friday have lost all contact with his suit—”

 _No, Tony, tell me you didn’t_.

“It’s not looking good. We need you.”

Sam’s hand was on his shoulder. He turned around. “T’Challa’s made the alert. This is code red. They’re calling in everyone, including Bucky. But Maximoff’s still in Scotland and she won’t pick up the call.”

Steve allowed a heartbeat more to mourn, to give into the grief. _Tony’s gone. He went after the ship that has sailed far into space. We don’t know if he’ll make it back_. His jaw clenched and he took a quick breath. “Then we go get her. Suit up.” To the phone, Steve said, “We’ll be there.”

 _I’ll be there, as I’ve always promised_.

Once Steve had finished suiting up, just before he turned off the TV and locked the front door, Tony’s portrait filled up the screen and the headline beneath read,

 **TONY STARK MISSING**.

Steve swallowed his dry throat and left for another fight.

 


End file.
